Richard Gere is pushing 70, an age at which most movie stars who want to continue to working slide into supporting roles for younger thespians or move to TV/streaming shows. Not Gere. He continues to take starring roles in good films, showing again and again how underrated he has been as an actor.
They’re smaller films -- probably you’ve never seen many of them, or possibly even heard of them. But you gotta respect the guy for continuing to do quality work in the medium where he staked his ground.
In “Norman: The Moderate Rise and Tragic Fall of a New York Fixer,” he plays a wannabe power broker who’s really a pathetic Willy Loman figure and doesn’t want to admit it to himself. He’s perpetually on the move, dropping names and spinning lies, wearing the same coat and hat like they’re part of his DNA.
Most Wall Street financiers and politicians dismiss Norman for what he is -- a hanger-on with no real influence or juice. Even his nephew (Michael Sheen), a rising lawyer, tries to gently bring him down to earth.
But then Norman gloms onto a promising young Israeli politician named Micha Eshel (Lior Ashkenazi), buying him a pair of shoes in a fancy men’s clothier and finally nailing that “in” he’s been searching for his whole life. When the younger man unexpectedly comes into power, Norman finds himself feted, but also his life of flimflam investigated.
Facing pressure from all sides -- including his synagogue, which insists he use his new mojo to secure millions to save their building -- Norman starts to collapse into the web of lies he’s been furiously spinning.
Written and directed by Joseph Cedar, “Norman” is a smart, tragic and surprisingly funny look at how ambition can consume everyone, the big fish and the small. And featuring an actor who refuses to go quietly into that good Netflix.
Bonus features are rather modest. There is “Norman: Making the Connection,” interviews with cast and crew from the red carpet premiere, and “An Evening with Norman,” an Q&A with Gere and Cedar.
"Norman: The Moderate Rise and Tragic Fall of a New York Fixer" is the story of a flimflam man with his heart, if not his methods, in the right place.
We've seen movies before about consummate power players, the sort of slick “House of Cards” types who slide through the intersecting webs of politics and finance with ease, relying on their connections with big names to close the killer deal or bend the right ear.
Norman Oppenheimer is not one of those fellows, though he would desperately like to be.
Richard Gere gives another dazzling performance in the small indie films that have become his bread-and-butter during an impressive late-career surge. His Norman is a sort of everyman nebbish, a good Jew who trolls the waters of the titans of New York, following in their shadows and hoping to poke his nose into the light.
His nephew, a rising young lawyer played by Michael Shannon, tries to warn Norman that he's a guy flailing in the sea trying to get the attention of ocean liners and massive submarines. "But I'm a good swimmer," Norman counters.
Norman is at once incredibly audacious in his ability to worm his way in to see just about anyone, but Gere and writer/director Joseph Cedar also gift him with a tremendous amount of fear and doubt. He's a guy at retirement age without any accomplishments or enduring monuments.
Unlike Willy Loman, he doesn't even seem to have a home or a family to go back to, though he'll mention his deceased wife used to work for so-and-so if it gets him in the door, or his daughter just graduating from graduate school and getting a job at XYZ prestigious firm.
It's clear Norman lies prodigiously, so we amuse ourselves by trying to parse out what’s real, what’s not, and what’s a hybrid of each.
Clad perpetually in a yellow camel overcoat, cap and old-school earbud microphone for his never-ending phone calls, Norman is as much a type as an actual person. Indeed, the right-hand men and women to the giants talk about the need to keep “the Normans” of the world away from those they serve and protect.
In a lot of ways, he reminds me of the John Candy character from “Planes, Trains and Automobiles.” He’s a hustler who’s always hustling, a genuinely warm people person who’ll gently grab your arm and nudge you the way he’d like you to go. Talking ears off his what he does, dropping names and invitations for introductions.
Norman’s manipulations are quite transparent, and it’s up to you to decide if you want to go along for the ride or give him the cold shoulder.
Either way, Norman reacts pretty much the same: more attempts to ingratiate. At several points during the movie people more or less tell him, ‘Stop talking to me and leave me alone right now,’ and Norman will comply for a second, then follow with the inevitable, “Yes, but…”
The contretemps of the plot I’ll leave you to discover. Suffice it to say they involve finding $14 million so his Hebrew congregation can keep its building, with Steve Buscemi as the rabbi with the patience of Job; a billionaire financier (Josh Charles) whom Norman wants to entice; a Wall Street trader (Dan Stevens) and his dad, more fish for Norma’s hook; Charlotte Gainsbourg as a mystery woman on a train forced to listen to Norman’s prattling; and Hank Azaria as a younger, slightly more pathetic version of Norman himself.
The biggest connection Norman makes is with Micha Eshel, a young Israeli politician played by Lior Ashkenazi in a charismatic, attention-grabbling performance. Norman sees him at a conference, follows him around afterward, finally summons the courage to talk to him, and together they go into one of those New York men’s clothing stores where each customer gets their own attendant, and all the price tags include a comma.
For literally the price of a pair of shoes -- granted, possibly the most expensive pair of shoes in the world -- Norman finally gets his “in” to the big time.
A tale of tragedy that’s also mightily funny and discerning, “Norman” is another feather in Richard Gere’s already considerably festooned cap.
If you suffered through "The Smurfs," an un-entertaining combination of live action actors paired with CG-spawned little blue guys, then the sequel won't hold any surprises. There's lots of goofy slapstick, some kid-friendly gastrointestinal jokes, talking critters and a few sugary life lesson moments.
Hank Azaria, playing the evil wizard Gargamel, is once again the best thing about the movie, supplying a gleefully over-the-top performance that's more cartoonish than the smurfs themselves. Gargamel wants to extract the "smurf essence" from their bodies to fuel his plans to dominate the real world after being zapped there from the smurf universe in the last flick.
The joke is that since his banishment, Gargamel has become a world-famous magician, whose shows of fantastical illusions -- turning audience members into toads and whatnot -- are of course powered by real magic. Part of the fun is that he employs the same sneering, bow-before-me behavior, but audiences lap it up as part of his act.
The main plot is driven by Smurfette (voiced by Katy Perry), the only female, being smurfnapped by Gargamel, who actually created her before wise old Papa Smurf turned her good and blue. Now Gargamel wants Papa Smurf's magic formula.
Smurfette finds herself questioning her past, and chumming up with Vexy and Hackus, two of the gray-hued "Naughties" that the sorcerer has created as follow-ups to her. Vexy (Christina Ricci) is smart and tricky, while Hackus (J.B. Smoove) is brawny and doltish.
Papa Smurf (the late, great Jonathan Winters) intends to rescue Smurfette with his A-team of smurfs in tow, but through a typical smurf-up he ends up bringing Clumsy, Grouchy and Vanity (Anton Yelchin, George Lopez and John Oliver, respectively) instead. Predictable hijinks ensue.
Supplying the totally unnecessary human counterparts are Neil Patrick Harris, Jayma Mays and Brendan Gleeson. Friends of the smurfs from the last movie, they have to go through some paces about accepting others, choosing to be yourself, etc. Frankly, every minute with non-Gargamel people onscreen is deathly boring, though Gleeson getting turned into a duck has its moments.
It's pretty obvious that "The Smurfs 2" is intended for really small children and not grown-ups, which is why I brought my almost-3-year-old along for his take. This is someone who was delighted by the lackluster "The Croods" and "Despicable Me 2." I got a giggle or two out of him, but that's it.
If you won't believe a film critic, take it from a critic's kid: this one's a smurfing waste of time.
A merchandising opportunity in search of a movie, "The Smurfs" is the latest bastardization of a beloved cartoon franchise from Generation X's childhood. Like "Garfield," "Alvin and the Chipmunks" and "Yogi Bear," the filmmakers layer on the fancy computer animation but fail to add any soul into these stale leftovers.
Also like those other movies, "The Smurfs" unconvincingly pairs the CGI critters with live-action humans, resulting in the fakest person/Smurf hugs imaginable. I can't think why the people responsible for these types of movies feel it necessary to include live people, since the cartoon versions existed quite fine without them. The only answer I can come up with is a cynical one: It's cheaper, since it means they don't have to animate every second of the movie.
The story goes that several of the Smurfs get zapped from their magical land into real-world New York City, including Papa Smurf, Smurfette and some new guy named Gutsy, apparently a replacement for Hefty. They soon befriend Patrick (Neil Patrick Harris), a humble Manhattanite.
Their old nemesis, the wizard Gargamel, chases them through the dimension whole. He's played (live-action) by Hank Azaria, who gnashes and clowns and cavorts, managing to bring what little entertainment value to be found in "The Smurfs."
Please note, "The Smurfs" will be released on video on Friday, Dec. 2.
Video extras are quite decent, and are available in three different versions. The DVD contains two commentary tracks, gag reel (dubbed Blue-pers), a music montage, a "Find the Smurfs" game and two making-of featurettes.
Upgrade to the Blu-ray/DVD combo pack, and you add deleted/extended scenes, another game, one more featurette and progression reels showing the stages of the animation process.
Go for the Holiday Gift Set, and you get an interactive pop-up feature and a new mini-movie based on Dickens' "A Christmas Carol."
Movie: 1.5 stars out of four Extras: 3.5 stars out of four
"The Smurfs" is about what you'd expect. It's a cynical attempt to capitalize off the notoriety of a piece of 1980s cartoon nostalgia. There was no muse whispering into anyone's ear about why this story had to be told; the only sound was the ka-ching of cash registers ringing up an ocean of toys and merchandising tie-ins.
The thinking goes something like this: Generation Xers, who grew up on the television show and now have small children of their own, might get a kick out of their kids being delighted by the same wacky little blue critters they watched in knee pants.
Except, there's little to delight in this film, which follows the blueprint of similar rip-offs like "Alvin and the Chipmunks," "Garfield" and "Yogi Bear." The cartoons are rendered with computer animation, unconvincingly paired with live humans, for an escapade of tame chases and fights spiced with some slightly crude jokes -- mostly involving posteriors and gastrointestinal quirks -- and life lessons.
I don't mind this sort of claptrap for kiddies if it's executed well and the filmmakers manage to invite adults along for the journey, or at least make it tolerable.
But there's nothing to recommend about "The Smurfs." Every obvious joke is covered, every morsel of cuteness is exploited.
Even the CGI isn't terribly impressive. (Nor is the 3-D, which is definitely not worth the ticket upgrade.) The Smurfs have a vague, fuzzy appearance, unlike the crisp detail we're used to in modern animation like "Kung Fu Panda" or "How To Train Your Dragon." When they hop on a human's shoulder or go in for a hug (which they do a lot), the actors do a bad mime performance.
You know the set-up: In an enchanted forest lies a village of oversized mushrooms, where lives 100 little blue humanoids "three apples high," 99 Smurfs and one female, who gets the accurate but sexist moniker of Smurfette (voiced by Katy Perry). Papa Smurf is their father and leader, although he didn't actually procreate, but created Smurfette and had the boys flown in by magical storks.
Papa Smurf is voiced by Jonathan Winters, who briefly did the voice of Grandpa Smurf on the TV show, where Smurf lineage was apparently more complicated. He gives Papa a deep, reassuring and rather bland sound, quite unlike the chirpier, gravelly tone of the late Don Messick, who made Papa sound like what he is: a wizened little gnome.
I was also disappointed that Hefty Smurf has been replaced by some new guy named Gutsy (Alan Cumming). It's the same basic character -- strong, garrulous, brave -- except now he wears a kilt and speaks in a Scottish brogue. What really makes it puzzling is that Hefty is actually glimpsed briefly, so why he got benched for this interloper is beyond me.
Anyway, a handful of Smurfs get chased by their archenemy, the human wizard Gargamel, through a portal into New York City's Central Park. They meet Patrick (Neil Patrick Harris), a young marketing exec who works for a big cosmetics company with a tyrant of a boss. He and his wife (Jayma Mays) are expecting a baby, so Patrick is having daddy/commitment issues, and the last thing he needs is a gaggle of Smurfs invading their tiny apartment.
(And by "tiny," I mean the sort of expansive, handsome, multi-room suite that real New Yorkers would pay seven figures for.)
To open the portal and get back home they need a blue moon, which are common enough on their world but strictly metaphorical on Earth.
I will give "The Smurfs" props for one thing: casting Hank Azaria as Gargamel. The tall, classically handsome Azaria is unrecognizable as the hunched, bald sorcerer with a hooked hillock of a nose and a burning desire to steal the Smurfs' essence for his spells. He's a gleefully depraved figure, and Azaria seems to recognize the material for what it is.
He's responsible for what little lemonade that could be wrung from this lemon.
Here's a fairly conventional romantic drama that does a fantastic job of showing off the charms of two very attractive performers, Anne Hathaway and Jake Gyllenhaal. It's almost a throwback to an old-fashioned type of movie-making in which stars were stars, and it was the job of the director, screenwriter and crew to make them look as good as possible.
"Love and Other Drugs" is set in the late 1990s when Viagra first hit the market, and Gyllenhaal plays Jamie Randall, the salesman who was born to hock it. Good-looking and with a rogue-ish charm that he uses to great effect, Jamie has a twinkly smile that melts the heart of the orneriest receptionist guarding access to the doctors he needs to pitch.
Jamie comes from a family of physicians (George Segal and the late Jill Clayburgh play the parents) but was a med school washout. Even his slovenly younger brother Josh (Josh Gad) is a dot-com millionaire.
He's eager to please -- "I'm very trainable" is his pet phrase -- and hides his self-loathing behind a charismatic veneer built on can-do ambition.
Jamie's not above playing dirty. A Pfizer man, he dumps the drug samples from his chief competitor from Lily (Gabriel Macht) into the dumpster, and bribes an influential doc (Hank Azaria) to let him tag along on patient rounds, posing as an intern.
There he meets Maggie Murdock (Hathaway), a waitress with Parkinson's and an attitude. After baring her breast during the exam, she clocks Jamie in the head upon learning he's a pharmaceutical rep.
In classic meet-cute form, in moments he transforms her anger into admiration for his magnetism. Soon they're in bed, but Maggie lays out the rules: Just empty sex, no relationship. I don't think I have to tell you this rule gets shattered.
Director Edward Zwick, who co-wrote the script with Charles Randolph and Marshall Herskovitz, is better known for testosterone-laden flicks with a martial bent ("Courage Under Fire," "Glory"). His touch is light and sure, and he knows how to give Hathaway and Gyllenhaal that extra bit of star sparkle.
Maggie's disease, which is merely a reason for them to meet initially, takes on more weight as the narrative adopts an increasingly somber tone. The similarity to "Love Story" -- about a young cad who grows up when his lady has a life-changing illness -- is more than passing.
They're a solid pair of performances, as the actors show us layers to their characters we might not have initially guessed at.
They're also revealing in another way -- as in both actors show off an astonishing amount of skin. I can't remember the last time I saw two mainstream stars partaking in this much nudity.
The supporting performances are tidy and worthwhile. Oliver Platt plays Jamie's senior partner, who's hoping to ride his coattails to a spot in the Chicago office. Judy Greer is a slightly awkward receptionist who falls prey to Jamie's charms.
Azaria gets one nice scene where the doctor laments dealing with HMOs, drug companies and litigious lawyers instead of just making people's lives a little better.
Gad is the go-to man for comic relief, moving in with Jamie after his own marriage fails. Although, as Jamie himself finally thinks to ask, why does a multi-millionaire need to shack up with his brother?
"Love and Other Drugs" is sweet, funny, sad and occasionally even moves us a little. Despite the title, it doesn't really have anything insightful to say about drug companies making a profit by having doctors pump us full of medicine that may not even help us very much.
Call this movie a pleasant little placebo -- it may not make the world a better place, but it tastes good going down.
The "Night at the Museum" movies are the epitome of everything wrong with modern filmmaking. They have lots of whiz-bang special effects, two or three humorous moments, and no heart or brains.
Night museum guard Larry Daley (Ben Stiller) survived a job inside a museum where all the exhibits come to life. Since then, he's moved on to a successful career as a TV product pitchman -- which brings monetary benefits but not much fulfillment.
Meanwhile, the living exhibits (which turn inanimate during daytime) are shipped off to storage at the Smithsonian museum complex, where the magic tablet brings all those exhibits to life, too. Unfortunately, one of them is an Egyptian pharaoh (Hank Azaria) who wants to use the tablet to rule the world; he has recruited Ivan the Terrible, Al Capone and Napoleon as his henchman.
And Amelia Earhart (Amy Adams) fleshes out a bomber jacket long enough to give Larry a hand, along with a few slaps and smooches.
There's a few clever jokes -- the Jonas Brothers as cupids is cute, and I liked the spoof of the slo-mo action sequences from "300" performed by 2-inch-tall Romans.
But mostly, it's goofy computer-generated mayhem without much point.
Video extras are quite ample. Separate commentary tracks are provided by director Shawn Levy and screenwriters Robert Ben Garant and Thomas Lennon. There's a 19-minute making-of documentary that touches on most aspects of filmmaking, though it's a lot of glad-handing.
The Blu-ray/DVD combo pack also comes with a gag reel of outtakes, about a dozen deleted/alternate scenes, and more. I particularly liked the "Phinding Pharaoh" featurette, which has screen tests of Azaria trying out various accents for his character -- including a Southern one -- before settling on what he dubs a Boris Karloff impression.
A limited edition "Monkey Mischief" disc adds games and featurettes about the monkey star and his handler.
The combo pack also includes a digital copy of the film.
